


The Cover Story  *on hiatus*

by ThatRegencyGrrrl



Category: Daredevil (TV), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Matt and Foggy being bros, Matt and Natasha and their minefields of secrets, college fic, mentions of aftermath of rape, more tags to be added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-11 01:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4416329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatRegencyGrrrl/pseuds/ThatRegencyGrrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Natasha Romanov receives her next undercover assignment, build a cover as Natalie Rushman. Part of that includes spending a semester as an undergraduate at Columbia University. She's only been an active SHIELD agent for two years and is still trying to create a new life for herself after burning the Black Widow program to the ground. She'll go to classes, keep a low profile, and certainly not make herself memorable to anyone. Best that no one will be able to recall what Natalie Rushman looked like once she's gone. And then she had to have Matt Murdock lead her orientation tour and he's making it no secret that he knows she's not who she says she is.</p><p>Will have Matt and Foggy being bros, conversations filled with minefields and double meanings, Matt being a magnet for the ladies, special guest stars checking in with Natasha. Plus Marci being the awesome person she is.</p><p>Takes place between Iron Man and Iron Man 2, and the college flashbacks of episode 10 of Daredevil- "Nelson vs Murdock."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> After my fifth viewing of Daredevil, I kept thinking how this could fit in some other way in the MCU, plus knowing that comics Matt and Natasha had a thing for a while, I needed these two characters to meet. Voila! Natalie Rushman, Stark Legal Department. Premise is that going in a completely computer generated cover would not be enough to Stark, so Fury sends Natasha to college.

**Prologue**

SHIELD still reeled from Tony Stark’s off script and reckless “I am Iron Man” fiasco. However, Nick Fury had never expected Stark to tow the party line, so to speak, and briefed him on the initiative. Fury didn’t reveal the team details, he wasn’t an idiot, but revealed enough to pique Tony’s disinterest in taking part. After all, Stark had a company to clean up and weapons to recover. He didn’t have time to play superhero with a bunch of government stooges, which suited Agent Romanov just fine. Said Agent currently stood in Fury’s office not believing what she heard.

“What do you mean build my cover ‘the old-fashioned way?’ We do have the best tech people, do we not? Or have there been budget cuts?”

“I mean Tony Stark isn’t a regular mark. Despite the playboy image, the man is a genius. And he doesn’t trust outsiders. You need to leave a trail, as he will be able to unravel any digital fingerprints our techs can throw at him. So you’ll be living as Natalie Rushman for a while before you’ll be on site at Stark Industries.”

“And that includes college? Dorm rooms, sororities, friends? Nick, you know I”

“I think you could use some normalcy after Budapest.”

“Normalcy. Pretending to be a college co-ed in order to engage in corporate espionage. That’s normal.”

“Natasha, it’s one semester. Columbia. Four months in New York City. No, you can’t communicate with Barton, that’ll be too hard to explain. Your courses are in the dossier. No showing off in the language classes.”

Natasha flipped through the dossier. Natalie Rushman, formerly of Iowa State, transferring into Columbia’s law program, Dean’s List, former gymnast and ballerina, mother was Russian, died in car accident, estranged from her wealthy father, took time off between high school and college to travel the world and ended up modeling in Japan. Nick had enrolled her in Spanish, Latin, an intro to intellectual property law, and a women’s studies course.

“So, Natalie is a well-traveled, athletic feminist?”

“Don’t forget wealthy. Didn’t want you to be without the designer clothes you’re so fond of.”

“I do wear them so well. How long?”

“Student check-in is in three days. Classes start a week after that.”

“And then?”

“You’ll start getting calls from Japan in October. By Christmas break you’ll decide to put your advanced degree on hold to go model, in March you’ll get your foot in the door at SI. Eventually I’d need you to get close to Stark himself.”

“Want the Iron Man schematics?”

“This doesn’t leave this room. I had a tech I trust to run a simulation. Howard Stark’s idiot kid put a nuclear powered magnet in his chest. If Stark’s as smart as I think he is, he already has the data we do. Which is, he will get sick, possibly die. Not sure how the armor is powered, but I’m guessing that reactor has something to do with it.”

“So I’m playing nurse?”

“You’re to report directly to me on this. If he takes a turn for the worse, I have someone else working on something for the symptoms. Not ready yet, but he doesn’t need it yet. Look, Natasha, enjoy a typical American experience for the next few months. Drink some asshole frat boys under the table. Take photos. I need a laugh.”

“Yes, sir.”

With that, their meeting ended. Natasha went to her quarters to memorize her dossier and pack. She needed to pass as a normal early twenties, American girl. She’d done it before, years ago. She could do it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can follow me on tumblr http://thatregencygrrrl.tumblr.com/ for fic updates and geeking out about other stuff.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to meet Matt Murdock, he meets "Natalie Rushman," and both are equal parts intrigued and mystified about each other. Plus, all campus tours aren't the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Completely un-beta'd, any mistakes are my own. Please be gentle.
> 
> Also, this is the chapter that starts the vague reference to a campus rape that happened prior to the events in the story. No specific details/descriptions are given. There will be a pay off in later chapters. Also, bonus points to everyone who figures out the identity of the European woman in the tour group. Just don't spoil it for every one else.

**Chapter 1**

Matt Murdock still couldn’t believe his luck this year with the roommate lottery. He did find it strange that he hadn’t run into Foggy on campus before, but then Columbia was a large campus and the first two years of college were more about fulfilling general requirements than focusing on your major. No more beer swilling, over sexed, or pothead roommates for Matt. No, this year would be spent with a fellow law major, one from the old neighborhood even, someone who could understand why he pushes himself so hard. Maybe he and Foggy would lose touch after they got their law degrees, maybe not. But for now, Matt’s happier than he has been for a long time.

The good mood buoyed him through the campus tour he gave to incoming “non-traditional” students. He counted two Japanese men, one Japanese woman, an European woman, and an American woman. Good old Columbia, trotting out their one blind student to show how diverse and forward-thinking they are, how the university really is for everyone. If only they knew the trouble Matt had first gone through to get course material and to get some of the professors to make arrangements for his exams. He pushed those thoughts from his mind and continued the tour.

The American, she said her name was Natalie, but her accent seemed generic, like she had tried to erase whatever of her past she could. The European, her voice mesmerized Matt. It had a melodious quality and a rhythm that reminded Matt of parts of the Kitchen. She spoke rarely, but when she did it was soft yet firm, with a bored tinge to it. Clearly she had been on many new student orientation tours. Perhaps she moved around a lot in her life. The Japanese were polite, asked the right questions, sometimes didn’t understand his slight sarcasm. 

“So that’s the end of the officially licensed tour. Any questions?”

The group fell silent. Two of the group raised their hands, then realized their mistake and lowered them.

“I have one,” Natasha said.

“Natalie, right?”

“Good catch. Since we have our pre-registration packets with us, could you show us where our classes are?”

“Wouldn’t that ruin the ever popular first day excuse for oversleeping? The ‘I couldn’t find the room’ excuse?”

“I never oversleep,” Natasha retorted.

“Americans,” the European woman muttered.

Matt smirked at their responses. Maybe Natalie was worth looking into as well. No, her voice, there was something off about it. He didn’t know what, but he would.

“If you’re sure, then get out your schedules and we’ll venture boldly forth.” He smirked in Natalie’s direction.

Natasha liked this guy. Smart, sarcastic, capable, easy on the eyes. He seemed taken with the European woman. Given how he would tilt his head in her direction whenever she opened her mouth. Mostly she just muttered sarcastic and bored comments under her breath. The woman in question showed no inclination towards him or the tour.

“If anyone here is taking a language, we’re standing in front of that building. Also literature and writing classes are in this building as well. Anyone have those on their schedule?”

“Level two Spanish,” the European sighed, definitely bored and definitely not her first new student tour.

“Great, if you’ll follow me inside.”

The tour lasted another hour as Matt showed them where their classes would be. Afterwards the group dispersed back to their dorms except for Matt and Natasha. He started towards the registrar’s office, Natasha lingered behind allowing distance before she walked in that direction as well. Old habits were hard to break and she needed to observe more. Matt stopped a few hundred feet ahead which forced Natasha to give up her game and catch up with him.

“I thought you were blind.”

“I grew up in Hell’s Kitchen. I know when I’m being followed. Don’t know why though.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt your reverie.”

“Where are you heading, Natalie?”

“Registrar’s office. I’m supposed to have five classes, I know I signed up for five online, but there’s only four on my schedule.”

“I’ll walk with you then, I need to ‘clock out’ as it were.”

They walked in companionable silence for a little while, the rhythmic tapping of Matt’s cane the only noise. 

“So Natalie, where are you from? Everyone else in the group was international.”

“I transferred from Iowa State.”

“That’s quite a move.”

“Just part of my five year plan.”

“You’re a planner then?”

“I like to be prepared for all possibilities.”

“Hmm.”

Natasha noticed how Matt walked on the balls of his feet, like a cat ready to pounce. He either had dance training or boxing. Given the reveal of Hell’s Kitchen, Natasha came down on the side of boxing. He carried himself like a fighter, a false pose of relaxation but prepared to take action at any moment. Matt was an enigma wrapped in a mystery.

They reached the registrar’s office; Matt held the door for her.

“Glad to see chivalry isn’t dead.”

“My dad raised a gentleman.”

Single father then. Natasha filed that away for further analysis. 

“Hello, Matt, tour went well?” Donna, the registrar asked.

“They didn’t fall asleep or wander off, so I’d say it went well. Here’s my badge.” Matt handed over his badge with a half-smile.

“Matt’s a very informative guide.” 

“Glad you found me informative, Natalie.”

“Oh yes, very.”

“Oh really?” Donna raised an eyebrow at them.

“Actually, Donna, we’re here on a matter of business. I need to add a class and Natalie’s run into a problem with the online registration.”

“You’re not the first one, dear. Won’t be the last. We keep getting security patches for it, well, anyway, how can I help you?”

“Here’s my print-out. I’m supposed to have Intro to Corporate Law, but it’s not there.”

“Give me a sec and I’ll get that fixed for you. Now Matthew, what course did you need to add?”

“Level two Spanish. When I went home over the summer I realized I forgot more than I remembered. Going to need fluency if I’m going to set up shop there. After I pass the bar. In four years. I have a four year plan, Natalie.”

“Always the overachiever. You’re supposed to have some fun in college,” Donna joked.

“Learning is fun.”

“There you go Natalie, you’re enrolled in that course. Here’s your new print-out.” Donna handed Natasha her new schedule. “Oh dear, Matt, that class is full. Colin Van Stadt just signed up online.” Matt made a face at the name.

“You’re not supposed to tell me that, you know.”

“Well he’s not our favorite person, is he? I’ll email the professor, see if he’ll squeeze you in.”

“Thanks Donna.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Matt and Natasha exited the office together. When they were a few feet from the building, Natasha turned to him.

“Why isn’t Colin Van Stadt your favorite person? Isn't he related to that real estate mogul?”

“One, I can’t give you the details, and two, he’s his son.”

“Why can’t you give details?”

“University’s judicial committee guidelines. I was involved in his case last year. Let’s just say you don’t want to get drunk around him without someone to watch out for you.”

“I see.”

“Look, Columbia’s not…”

“Stuff like that happened at Iowa State too. I can look after myself.”

“I should probably head back to my dorm. I was supposed to be back an hour ago and my new roommate is a mother hen.”

“Does he think a group of incoming students is going to mug you?”

“We are still in New York City. It was a pleasure meeting you, Natalie.”

“Likewise. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

They parted ways, Natasha strolled off to who knows where. Matt couldn’t figure her out. There was something in her voice, the way she spoke, the words she chose to use, it unsettled him and he didn’t know why. Besides the European woman, Greek, his mind finally supplied, she seemed worth getting to know. His Spanish was impeccable, if a little colorful. God bless a Hell’s Kitchen education. Maybe he could take her there on a date, but first he’d have to learn her name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be updating this fic weekly. I have no idea how many chapters this will be. I have six chapters planned out so far, but I've found that once I sit down and write, the ideas take longer to develop. Plus, these characters are too much fun to write.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to meet Foggy (finally!) wherein he embarrasses Matt, himself, and some of Matt's history is revealed to Natasha. Plus, Natasha finds out the woman's name before Matt does. A bit of fluff and character development this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to everyone who's left kudos and comments and have read the fic so far. You warm the cockles of my hermit-y writer's heart. 
> 
> And yes, I did break my self imposed one chapter a week upload, but I had it ready to go and I am editing chapter 3. Hopefully that will go up on Friday. And also FOGGY!

**Chapter 2**

The day before fall registration had always been a massive social day. Students milled around the quads, random frisbee games broke out, sororities and fraternities scoped out the potential recruits, condemning the poor souls who didn’t know they never stood a chance of acceptance. Natasha glanced over all the activity, filing away information for later use. She noticed the Greek woman from her tour group sat under an old oak tree not far from her. She decided that “Natalie” should make friends with her. Besides, there was something familiar about the woman that Natasha couldn’t figure out. 

“Hi, I’m Natalie, you were in my tour group, weren’t you?” Natasha offered her hand, the woman scoffed at it. Undeterred, Natasha withdrew her hand and continued talking. “I got the feeling that the tour wasn’t your first new student tour, am I right?”

“What gave it away?”

“I would have said the unrepentant boredom, but your sarcasm is a nice touch.” Natasha raised her sleek eyebrow.

“Congratulations on not boring me.” The woman rose to her feet. “I’m Elektra and the tree’s all yours, Natalie.” The woman, Elektra, shouldered her backpack and walked off. Natasha now had no choice but to sit under the shade of the old oak. She pulled a novel out of her backpack and began to read.

A familiar click-clack brought her out of the passage she was reading. Her tour guide walked in her direction accompanied by a blonde, portly young man, probably the roommate he mentioned yesterday. The blonde had an animated, good-natured air about him. They weren’t close enough that Natasha could make out what they said, but clearly Matt was amused by his roommate’s antics. They stopped about fifty feet away from her; they looked to be debating something.

Matt really hoped Foggy wasn’t serious about the wingman/Top Gun thing. He should never have asked Foggy about the “hot redhead staring at him.” Now he wanted to go over there and “practice their game.”

“I’m serious, Matt.”

“I don’t think practicing a Maverick and Goose act is a good use of our time.”

“Of course it is, buddy. Look, she’s totally, sorry, I mean…”

“It’s okay Foggy. I use seeing verbs all the time. Makes conversations less awkward.”

“Okay. Good to know. The hot redhead is totally looking up from her book and watching us. Now it’s awkward.”

“Maybe we should just go over there and introduce ourselves.”

“Right. Good plan. Great plan.”

“Are you boys going to stand there gawking or are you going to come over and say hi?” Natasha called out to them.

“Crap.”

“Busted.”

Foggy and Matt walked over to where Natasha sat.

“I promise I don’t bite.” Natasha batted her eyelashes at Foggy for comic effect. “Unless you’re into that.”

“Hi Natalie.”

“Hi Matt. Why don’t you boys pull up some grass?”

Foggy and Matt sat down on either side of her. Matt reached behind himself to feel the ground before fully sitting.

“Oh right, Natalie, this is Foggy Nelson, my roommate.”

“Nice to meet you, Natalie.”

“Likewise. So you’re the mother hen.”

“Really Matt? That’s how you introduce me to beautiful women?”

“How was I supposed to know how Natalie looks?”

“But Mother Hen? That’s nice.”

Natasha, amused by their antics, posed a question, “Did you two grow up together? You seem like you’ve known each other for years.”

“It’s only been a couple of days,” Matt supplied.

“It’s weird though, we both grew up in Hell’s Kitchen, both majoring in law, and we really only met on move in day. Hand to God and all of that.” Foggy crossed his heart.

“We were taking different general ed requirements, and Hell’s Kitchen is larger than you’d think. We grew up in different parts of it.” Matt fell silent, not wanting to mention St Agnes.

“That is true, but now the dynamic duo has found each other and will not be torn asunder!”

Natasha giggled at Foggy’s theatrics, which was a strange sensation for her. She only felt this at ease around Phil and Clint, and that had taken months to create. She met Foggy Nelson moments ago and she could completely relax in his company, even joke around. Maybe because she didn’t deem him a threat. Maybe that’s what he inspired in people. Whatever the reason, it was a foreign sensation to Natasha. Maybe there really still was good in this world.

Matt listened to Natalie and Foggy joke around. Foggy was one of the those people who was just inherently good. Sure he had the New Yorker edge to him, but he had a quality that put people at ease around him. Natalie, however, baffled him. This seemed to be the only time Matt sensed she wasn’t lying or hiding something. He would have to keep his gloves up around her. And that thought brought up memories of his father, which he didn’t need right now.

Before Matt delved too far into his ruminations, Foggy’s voice brought him back to the present moment.

“He didn’t tell you? Of course he didn’t tell you. I knew about it and he didn’t want to talk to me about it.”

“Talk about what, Foggy?”

“That you’re a local hero!”

“I’m not a hero Foggy. I did what”

“Bullshit. What nine year old kid from Hell’s Kitchen is going to save an old man from getting hit by a truck?”

“You saved…” Natasha started.

“It’s not a big deal,” Matt protested.

“Foggy thinks it is.”

“Matt is weirdly humble.”

“That’s the Catholicism.” Matt sighed when neither of them laughed, “it was a joke. My sense of humor is a little dry for most people.”

“Most people don’t joke about religion,” Natasha replied.

“Was that your attempt at dry humor?”

“Apparently I’m not as good at it as you are, Matt. So, Foggy, tell me about the local hero.”

“Don’t.”

“I guess it’s a sensitive subject then.” Foggy glared at Matt.

“It’s how I lost my sight.” 

“Oh, no wonder you don’t want to talk about it.” Natasha tilted her head, intrigued by Matt’s answers to her informal interrogation. “You’re an interesting study, Matt Murdock. I better go peruse the student organization tables now that the crowds have thinned out.” Natasha rose from her spot on the ground. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Foggy.”

“Likewise.”

Without further ado, Natasha began to walk away. Matt called after her.

“See you around, Natalie!”

“You really are a shit, aren’t you, Murdock?” Natasha replied over her shoulder.

“That part I got from my father!" Matt called back. "What, Foggy?”

“You have all the luck, man. This year is going to be awesome. And you’re going with me to the Greek Row party tonight, no excuses.”

“Maverick and Goose, huh?”

“Totally.”


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A blind man, an assassin, and a law student go to a party. This isn't a funny chapter; things get a little heavy. Mentions of a past rape case on campus. 
> 
> Warning for: mentions of rape, rape culture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and leaving kudos/comments. This is still unbeta'd so any mistakes are my own. This is also the longest chapter in this fic so far.

**Chapter 3**

Charcoal grills were set up near the sidewalks of Greek Row while lights adorned the porches of the various houses. Coolers of ice and soda rested on the lawns of the Sorority and Frat houses. Alcoholic beverages would be found inside the houses, allegedly supervised by older members of the organizations. As is the case with most colleges, security turned a blind eye to any under age drinking that night. Natasha threaded through the crowds, a predator on the hunt. She amused herself by doing thirty second profiles on the more irritating people who crossed her path. She had no desire to drink any of these idiots under the table per Nick’s suggestion. On one of the lawns, she noticed two women involved in an intense discussion. Natasha sidled closer, hoping for an intellectual, collegiate debate. What she got, however, disturbed her more than she thought it would.

“Five to four. Five men, four women, of course the men would support their own. I can’t believe they voted not to expel him. 'No wrong doing' my ass.”

“Sybil, I don’t think it played out like that. You weren’t there, you didn’t see who was on the jury. And I’m not allowed to divulge anything that went on in there. But it wasn’t men versus women, okay? One of the male students must have voted for expulsion, given his reaction every time that douche nozzle spoke.”

“If Colin tries anything tonight with another fresh off the farm girl, no offense, he’s going to wish he was expelled.” Sybil grit out.

Natasha decided to interrupt.

“I’m sorry for eavesdropping, but…”

The enraged woman, Sybil, looked over Natasha before replying “No problem. There’s this guy, actually probably his whole crew that you need to…”

“I’m not supposed to…” The timid woman started.

“You didn’t. And I’m performing my civic duty. Colin’s a rapist. An entitled, rich, white boy who the world bows to despite…”

“Wait, Colin Van Stadt?” Natasha asked.

“We really shouldn’t be talking about this, I could get into trouble.”

Natasha arched her eyebrow at the timid woman’s response.

“Just watch your drink, if you are drinking, um?”

“Natalie.”

“Just be careful, Natalie.”

“Yeah, Natalie, and watch out for others too, if you can.” Sybil and the other woman walked away, leaving Natasha on the front lawn, her rage equalling that of Sybil. She looked up at the house and noted the greek letters. She had researched Colin Van Stadt the day Matt had mentioned him. This was Colin’s fraternity. Maybe she would do a little side job while she built her cover. No one would be the wiser. With that goal in mind, Natasha entered the house.

She scanned the living room. By the makeshift bar area, she saw Colin. Looked like he was putting the moves on a freshman girl. She rolled her shoulders and made to approach him, slipping into Natalie Rushman, simple farm girl from Iowa persona. She took a few steps in Colin’s direction, but stopped when she heard her name.

“Hey, Natalie!” Foggy’s now familiar voice called out. She turned and looked in the direction of his voice. He stood against a wall next to Matt, nursing a red solo cup beer while Matt looked uncomfortable. Natasha decided her prey could wait a few more minutes and walked over to the duo.

“Having fun, boys?”

“Sure.”

“Not hardly,” came Matt’s curt reply. 

“Can I get you a drink?” Foggy offered.

“I’ll get my own, thanks. So Matt, too much drunk frat boy for your tastes?”

“The noise gets to me after a while, as does the smell of excessive vomiting.”

“The vomiting hasn’t started yet. And that’s the best part. Watching these douchebags, oh, sorry Matt. I, uh.”

“Foggy, stop apologizing every five seconds. And while I do appreciate knowing that these douchebags get their comeuppance for their own stupidity, I don’t need to smell it. Or slip in it.”

“Agree with you there, Matt. Besides after backpacking through Europe, keggers are blaze,” Natasha commented.

“You backpacked in Europe? That’s like every white girl’s wet dream. Oh my god, I’m sorry. Inappropriate things just spew out of my mouth when there’s alcohol or beautiful women involved. And I’m shutting up now.” 

“Maybe this party is picking up.” Matt quipped.

“You are a troll, Murdock.”

“I thought you were shutting up, Foggy?”

“Wow, you guys should do a comedy routine, professionally. This preview is amazing. But now I’m going to go get myself a drink.”

“Hey Natalie, be careful. There are some people with questionable morals here tonight.”

“Think I can’t take care of myself, Murdock?”

“I’m pretty confident you can, Natalie. Still doesn’t mean you shouldn’t let your better judgement slip.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Later boys.”

Natasha made her way through the crowd to get to the bar. Meanwhile Foggy lamented at length about how badly he messed up as Matt’s wingman and should be fired. Matt didn’t pay attention, too busy trying to focus his senses towards Natalie, a bit difficult as he was out of practice. When he finally made out Natalie’s voice, he gripped his cane tighter. Colin was definitely putting the moves on her and she bought every line. Matt couldn’t stand to listen to any more.

“Hey Foggy, I’m really not doing well with the noise and the smoke. I’m going to head back to the dorm and rest.”

“You need me to go with?”

“I can find my way back, you know. I just need to lie down and get some rest. And quiet.”

“Okay man.”

“Promise me not to throw up whenever you get back.”

“I know my limits, Matt. I’m not a freshman. Scouts honor, no vomit from me.”

Matt went back to their room. He paced, lost in an internal ethical debate. He shouldn’t take the law into his hands, but there was a very real chance if he didn’t step in, someone would be hurt again. 

“Fuck it.” Matt changed into a black shirt and found the navy blue knit beanie an ex-girlfriend had made him last winter. He folded up his cane and put it in his jeans’ pocket. He snuck out of the building although no one was around to notice.

Natasha had been busy while Matt was away. She managed to get Colin’s interest and then blew him off. Playing hard to get was a bit cliche, but then there’s a reason why the classics still worked. Colin fell for the act, and was even playing the part of the gentleman, walking “Natalie” back to her dorm. The Iowa girl had never been to the big city before and transferring to Columbia after living in a small town all her life, well it was a bit overwhelming. And if she swayed a little as she walked, well Colin would catch her if he fell, wouldn’t he? He was such a gentleman after all.

Matt hadn’t gotten too far away from the dorms before he heard them. Colin’s slimy voice coaxed Natalie into a dark space between the buildings. Natalie’s slurred voice put up token protests. Matt hid himself in the shadows, finding the perfect spot to spring into action, when the unexpected happened.

Natasha had been playing along with Colin’s game. It was almost too easy. When he led her to a darkened space between two dorms, she realized they weren’t alone. Was one of his cronies waiting for them? Or was it just a passerby? No, who ever it was stayed still. Natasha put up the token protests as Colin got handsy. His guard dropped; he had her where he wanted her.

Next thing Colin (and Matt) knew, Natasha had Colin pinned to the ground face first, her knee on his back. It had happened so fast, Matt couldn’t keep track of the injuries. He had heard a knee pop, possibly a cracked rib or two, definitely was a bruising to Colin’s diaphragm, maybe a dislocated shoulder. All injuries that were concealed from view, but would hurt like a son of a bitch. All injuries that could be explained by too much alcohol and not enough common sense. What the hell was Natalie Rushman anyway?

Natasha spoke low into Colin’s ear. “Listen to me asshole, if you want to live to tomorrow, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go back to your dorm and pack. You’re going to drop out of Columbia and slither back into whatever hole you crawl out of everyday. You’re going to think about your drug addicted sister and how many men like you she’s come across. Oh yes, your friends say they look out for her, but did you ever check their private videos? You are the company you keep. If you ever harm another woman again, trust that I will hunt you down and make tonight look like a cake walk. Do you understand?” Colin nodded as much as he was able to under the weight of Natasha’s knee. She let up. He scrambled to his feet, looked her in the eye, and said “Bitch,” so she did the only reasonable thing. She broke his nose and he went off at a hobbled run. 

The person in the shadows had moved, sounded like he or she went into the dorm. ‘Great,’ Natasha thought, ‘just what I needed, a witness.’ She could have followed them inside, but it was dark and it could have been anyone. Maybe they wouldn’t have seen anything identifiable. If they had, well, it would be a first for the Black Widow: an easy assignment blown to hell in under two days. Even Barton would be impressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the last we'll see of Colin Van Stadt. This chapter was excessively difficult to write, but it sets up so much. Chapter 4 will have more Matt/Foggy witty banter. I promise.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt Murdock fails at flirting, Natasha worries about repercussions from her dabbling in vigilantism, and Foggy further cements his place as friend for life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, unbeta'ed so any and all mistakes are my own making. Also I really love writing Matt/Foggy dialogue. They bounce off of each other so well.

****

Chapter 4

Two days later, the first day of classes, and still no one had come forward about “Natalie’s” evening activity. Van Stadt had left, rumor mill had it his father finally got wind of Colin’s end of summer bash he had at their Hamptons house prior to returning to Columbia. That coupled with how the university tried to drag his son’s name through the mud, resulted in Colin being pulled out of school before registration day. It appeared as though Natasha would get away with it, but she knew better. The moment you thought you were off scot free, was the moment when you would be caught.

But first Natasha had to sit through her eight a.m. class, level 2 Spanish. She arrived early, choosing a seat in the back of class so she could observe the other students as she filtered in. The Greek woman from her tour group decided on a seat in the middle of the room. Moments later Natasha heard the tapping of Matt’s cane and watched as he entered the room. The other students moved out his way and he somehow managed to find the Greek woman. He placed his hand on the desk next to hers.

“This seat taken?” Matt asked.

“It’s a free country, or so I’ve been told,” the woman replied. Her body language screamed ‘don’t even bother.’ Naturally Matt sat beside her which amused Natasha. This courtship would be interesting to watch.

The professor entered promptly at eight, a diminutive yet strong woman, and took role, assuring the class that this was the first and only time she would do so. She expected them to act like adults and show up to class that they paid for. Judging by her accent, Natasha surmised she was most likely Chilean which meant Natalie would need to speak with a more Mexican accent if called on in class. When the professor got to ‘Natchios, Elektra,’ Natasha’s heart rate spiked, but her face gave nothing away. That’s why she had seemed so familiar. How had Nick missed that Hugo Natchios’ daughter was also enrolled at Columbia? Or was this Nick’s idea of a joke? He had promised Natasha a cake walk, this was not. She tried to get her mind off of things by observing Murdock’s attempts at flirting with Elektra. They were received with practiced indifference.

By the end of class, Matt had completely crashed and burned with Elektra. The charms he usually applied didn’t work at all, which only served to spur on his interest. He did cheat; her heart rate and body temperature told him she was interested in him. He couldn’t understand why she would keep rejecting him. And speaking of elevated rates, Natalie’s rose slightly as she walked past them when she exited the class. He wasn’t too involved trying to get Elektra to speak more than one sentence to miss that. As the class emptied out of the building, Matt found himself following Natalie, but at a greater distance than she had followed him.

She stopped about hundred feet from him and made a call. Matt focused to listen in while trying to look inconspicuous. Luckily Natalie had her back turned to him.

“Nick, we may have a problem. Hugo Natchios’ daughter is in my Spanish class. Oh, you knew? Why didn’t you think to tell me? What’s the play? Right, so Natchios told his men to leave me alone. Oh course you reassured him I wasn’t here for his daughter. Okay, just don’t get friendly with her, not a problem. And Nick? I’ve been thinking about The Initiative. I think you may have been right about my part in it. Let’s say some extra curricular activities may have shown me something I didn’t know about myself. Oh, just your typical college hijinks, nothing to be worried about. I’ll check in with you at our appointed time. Bye. Nick.”

Matt busied himself and quickly followed two freshmen who happened by at the most opportune moment ever. As he walked to his next class, his mind swirled with questions. Who was Nick? Who was Natalie, really? What the hell was the initiative? Was this some secret government spy program? Or something worse? Years ago Stick had mentioned the coming war. This couldn’t be related to that, could it? Or worse, was it related to that suit that had tried to recruit Matt in high school?

That night Matt had Foggy google Elektra Natchios. He had been tempted to also search “the initiative,” but figured it would be better not to. Didn't need the men in black swopping down on him. Besides the information on Elektra didn’t give Matt much hope on his chances with her.

“Dude, Matt, when you pick a woman, you pick a woman.”

“That sentence made no grammatical sense.”

“You don’t make sense. Free advice? Give up, Matt. Besides that redhead, Natalie, is totally into you.”

“How can you tell?”

“She watches you a lot.”

“Not very comforting, Foggy. Some would say that’s stalkerish behavior.”

“Pot kettle, because googling your crush is totally not stalking behavior.”

“There’s something about Natalie that tells me I can’t trust her.”

“You just met her, you can’t know that you can’t trust her.”

“She’s not very forthcoming when she talks.”

“She’s a single woman from the corn fields of Iowa in the big city.”

“Didn’t she say she backpacked through Europe?”

“Okay fine, but not everyone is an open book. Besides, think of the children! By that I mean think of all the redhaired children you two would have. The world needs more gingers, Matt. Your kind is a dying breed, if the internet is to be believed.”

“Point made, Foggy. But I’m not ready to throw in the towel with Elektra.”

“Tell you what, we’ll let the internet decide.”

“What?”

“I’m googling Natalie. Whoa. Apparently Natalie is 23, her father’s in ethanol, and she modeled in Japan last year. That’s in addition to her European adventure the year after she graduated high school. And she’s studied ballet and mixed martial arts. I think you may have picked the wrong horse in this race.”

“Don’t you think that’s a lot of life experience for a twenty something from Iowa?”

“Don’t be prejudiced against rural America, you city slicker. Anyway, too bad you can’t see her modeling photos. You wouldn’t be so suspicious.”

“Good thing I can’t, if you’re so easily swayed by them. Why don’t you ask Natalie out.”

“One, she is way out of my league. And two, Punjabi, remember? Oh man, I don’t have a leg to stand on in the stalking argument, do I?”

“Not saying anything, stumpy,” Matt grinned.

 

By breakfast the next morning, Foggy had given up and fully boarded the “help Matt with his insane need to date a woman who has no interest in him” train. Hey, if Matt wanted to crash and burn again, who was Foggy to stop him? Besides, it went against the bro code. Until Matt came to his senses and gave up, Foggy was honor bound to help his delusional friend win the heart of fair Elektra.

“No, Foggy, the tutoring thing is overdone.”

“Overdone because it totally works.” Foggy said around a mouthful of sugary cereal. Matt froze as Natalie sidled up to their table.

“You really shouldn’t talk with your mouth full, Foggy. You could choke.” Natasha advised.

“Thanks for your concern. Actually, Natalie, I’m done so you can have my seat. See you later, Matt.” Foggy left the table and Natasha took his seat.

“You seem tense, Matt. Is something wrong?”

“Everything’s fine, Natalie.”

“Worried I’ll ruin your chances with Elektra? She’s not here, you know.”

“I know.”

“Really, how?”

“What?”

“How do you know she’s not here?”

“Foggy would have told me.”

“He seems like a good friend.”

“He is.”

“You’re not very chatty this morning, Murdock. Did I do something to offend you?”

“Why do you care?”

“You’re acting odd.”

“You’ve only spent a couple of hours total around me, you can’t form a full profile from that.” Matt rose and gathered his things. “Enjoy your breakfast. And before I forget,” Matt leaned in close to Natasha’s ear, “you have a mean right hook.” With that bombshell, Matt took his tray to the drop off area and left the cafeteria.

Natasha had to stamp down the overwhelming urge to laugh. Of course, the only witness to her ass kicking of one Colin Van Stadt turned out to be a blind man. At least he didn’t see anything, but what would he do with that information? And why was he following them that night? What did he think he’d be able to do to Van Stadt? So, Matt Murdock was a fighter after all. That could prove useful someday.


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Matt tries to avoid Natasha, but ultimately fails. No one can escape from the Black Widow's clutches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating sooner. This chapter gave me problems as I had the Matt/Natasha stuff written and it was less than 800 words. It took me longer than I thought it would to get the muses going.
> 
> Again unbeta'd so all mistakes are of my own making.

**Chapter 5**

Matt spent the next week trying to avoid Natalie while attempting to get Elektra to go on a date with him. He was successful at the former, and dismally unsuccessful at the latter. He should have felt better about being able to elude a, whatever “Natalie” was, as she was in all of his classes, and avoiding her had been no mean feat. The day Matt had burst her bubble, Natalie had been content to keep her distance, probably from the shock of his veiled threat. If it was a threat, Matt still didn’t know what had possessed him to say that to her. She didn’t need to know that he knew what she had done to Van Stadt. By Friday Matt’s evasions of Natalie became increasingly comical and desperate. He nearly jumped into a dumpster behind the cafeteria after dinner, but thankfully one of their classmates had called out to Natalie about forming a study group. Matt could have kissed that person.

Foggy attributed his friend’s behavior to wanting to get that Greek girl (and really Foggy, you should remember her name by now) to go out with him. And as Foggy witnessed Matt’s multiple failings with the ice queen, he noticed the other women Matt tended to attract. Like Natalie, and a few other women from their classes. Foggy had heard the expression “Irish charm” but he had never seen it in action until he met Matt. Maybe not Natalie so much, they were playing some sort of twisted and hilarious cat and mouse game at present. But seriously, Foggy couldn’t understand why Matt would spend so much time on a woman who clearly wasn’t interested when he had a harem of willing women to choose from. Okay, maybe not a harem, might have been two or three, but that was still more women than were ever interested in Foggy at one time.

 

Despite Murdock being in all of her classes, again with Barton’s Luck, it took until Saturday for Natasha to corner Matt alone. If it hadn’t been so frustrating, she would have laughed as Matt avoided her all week. He really had some skills in that department. Thankfully, she had thought to ask Foggy where she could find his roommate on this glorious Saturday morning. Foggy hadn’t been happy to be woken up at eleven, but he appreciated Natalie’s tenacity.

“I really don’t know what his deal is with you, but he did invite me to go meditate with him in the south quad. It tends to be pretty quiet on the weekends.So you can probably find him there if you’re sneaky enough.”

“You have no idea how sneaky I can be.”

“Sneaky enough to steal your parent’s car after midnight when you were fourteen?”

“Sounds about right. Thanks for your help, Foggy.”

“Just so you know, I’m rooting for you.”

“Thank you?”

“Okay, off with you, it’s ungodly to be awake before two on a Saturday.” With that Foggy shut the door.

Natasha walked across campus. She had spoken to Nick last night, per their agreement. She made no further mention about the incident with Van Stadt. Instead she updated Nick on her classes and even mentioned being invited to form a study group. College was a strange land to her. Everyone here seemed so naive and sheltered. They had no idea what cruelties existed in the world. Murdock had some inkling. She could tell that’s what fueled him to study, to be at the top of his class. Speaking of, their game of hide and seek had come to an end, as all good games must. She had found him, sitting underneath a tree, apparently meditating, but she knew better. Natasha sat down next to him. It was time for some trivial talk to put him at ease.

“I’ve been watching you crash and burn all week with Elektra. A sane person would have given up by now. Of course, you can’t see the looks she’s giving you, so you get a pass on your mental stability.”

“Natalie. You didn’t come here to discuss my love life.”

“What love life? You need to let her come to you. She has to work through her socially enforced stereotypes about the disabled.”

“I thought the constant rejection had more to do with being the daughter of a highly targeted diplomat and not any latent prejudices. For someone who’s supposed to be on the side of peace, he sure does have a lot of people after him. I may be blind, but I can google.”

“You don’t get to the top without making a few enemies.”

“Personal experience or conventional wisdom?”

“Hmm. So you can google. I’m betting you can fight too. Dad was a boxer, right? Only explanation for why you were following Colin and I.”

“Maybe I was just walking in the same direction.”

“I know when I’m being followed.”

“And how did you come by that skill?”

“Same way you did. I was trained.”

“I doubt in the same way. Who are you, Natalie?” Crap, did he slip up or what? Stick would kill him, if the bastard were still around.

“I don’t know. I’m figuring it out as I go.” For once she had told Matt the complete truth. He let out a breath and relaxed. “You know when I’m lying, don’t you?”

“It’s more like a hunch,” Matt hesitated.

“I think it’s more than that.” Natasha cocked her head to the side. “Did you know there was a case where a boy, blinded as a toddler, later developed echolocation? The human body is extraordinary, always evolving.”

“I’d say in his case, it was more about compensating than evolving.”

“Eh, tomato, tomahto.”

“You’re not going to tell me why you’re here at Columbia.”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you. Sorry, it’s a lame joke my… friend uses all the time.” 

Matt noticed the way she said friend, like it was a foreign concept to her. He had to wonder what sort of life Natalie had that excluded friends. He had his blindness to account for his lack of steady friends. But Natalie by all accounts was beautiful, accomplished, came from money. Why wouldn’t she have friends? Unless “Natalie” really was a complete lie.

“So not many friends in your line of work, Natalie?”

“What line of work would that be?”

“Spy, I’m guessing. I won’t insult either of our intelligence by mentioning your Japanese market modeling. Foggy checked you out. And don’t worry, you’re not obvious. At least not to anyone who isn’t me.”

“Should I be grateful? Look, Matt, I’m not here to hurt anyone or spy on anyone. I’m building a solid cover for a future assignment.” Again she told him the whole truth.

“Why are you trusting me with this?”

“Well, who would believe you? Besides, you have secrets of your own, which means you’ll respect mine.Oh, and you need to trust your trainer.” Natasha bumped his shoulder.

“My trainer?”

“Yes, if you’re going to be following women home from keggers to protect their virtue, you need better training than boxing.”

“My dad never taught me how to fight.”

“But you did have training.”

“What’s in it for you?”

“Maybe I enjoy the pleasure of your company. Or maybe I can tell when a man is going to do something stupid and am trying to mitigate the collateral damage, whenever that may occur.”

“Your friend must be very interesting.”

“You have no idea. Why don’t you find us a place, preferably off campus, by the end of next week.” Natasha stood. “You teach me boxing and I teach you dancing.”

“Dancing? Is that what you’re calling it?”

“Can’t go around talking about ass kicking lessons. People would get suspicious. One week, Murdock.” Natasha walked off.

Matt wondered what exactly he had agreed to. Too late he realized that Natalie had manipulated him by using little truths. She definitely couldn’t be trusted. It was a shame that she wasn’t a real student; she would make a damn good attorney.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the kudos and hits! Also next chapter, Marci Stahl. (Finally).


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's college without a study group and some hand to hand combat training? 
> 
> Or, Marci Stahl is scarily driven and Natasha and Matt bond over sparring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long between updates. There have been some issues with my dad getting a good cardiologist and having tests run. Plus, writer's block. I have the next few chapters plotted out and hopefully will be back to updating once a week.
> 
> Also, there are some pretty bad-ass women in the MCU and I love writing them.

Chapter 6

Marci Stahl was pants-wettingly terrifying in the best way possible. She earned Natasha’s respect during a particularly heated debate in their Women’s Studies class. Marci had effortlessly and succinctly shut down a slut shaming sophomore woman. Marci also happened to be in “Natalie’s” Corporate Law class and had spearheaded a study group which included Murdock (Marci argued him into it) and Foggy (Marci had begrudgingly allowed him entrance as part of Matt’s concession to join). During their Thursday night study session in the library, Natasha took the opportunity to send Foggy off in search of case law books and have Marci follow to help him.

“Fine, blondie will probably get lost and forget what he was looking for in the first place,” Marci huffed before going in search of Foggy. Matt grimaced at Marci’s retreating back.

“You don’t like her,” Natasha accused Matt.

“I don’t like her putting down Foggy. He’s smart, on the Dean’s List, and probably will graduate with honors,” Matt paused, “Plus she’s pants-wettingly terrifying. She’d make a really good prosecutor some day. But that’s not why you wanted to get me alone.”

“Did you find us a dance studio?”

“Always the spy talk with you.”

“Murdock,” she warned.

“Rushman,” he smirked. He could tell he annoyed her. Good, an honest reaction. “There’s a classroom I’ve used after hours, smart rooms with soundproofing. I’ve used it before when noises get to be too much.”

“And no one has questioned you?”

“Why? Who wouldn’t trust me? What possible mischief could the orphaned blind guy be up to?” Matt intoned with an extra shot of sarcastic innocence. Natasha snorted in response.

“Carpeted room?”

“Barely.”

“Bring yoga mats. We might get to actual dancing, but first you need to increase your flexibility.”

“Yoga? You…” Matt trailed off as he caught a hint of Foggy’s voice. “So, Saturday night, Natalie? Say about eight? DiNozzo’s has the best pizza going.”

Foggy and Marci came into view, continuing a conversation they had started in the stacks.

“I’m saying taking a language you have no use for to impress some airhead who thinks Bollywood movies are “the bomb,” a girl who, coincidentily, won’t give someone like you the time of day, is a complete waste of your time and an idiot move for your career.”

“I don’t remember asking for your advice, Marci, but thanks for your oh so helpful diatribe.”

“Wow, nice spine there, Franklin. Ugh, you’re right, Foggy suits you better.” They arrived at the table, took their vacated seats, and placed the case law books on the table.

“Okay, Matt, it’s a date.” Natasha agreed.

“What’s a date? I leave for a few minutes and you get a date. I really need to…”

“Improve your mack daddy skills?” Marci asked and grabbed one of the books. “Turns out Foggy bear didn’t need my help after all. Ooh, I like that. Foggy bear.”

“Please stop. My cousins and brothers would torment me with that.”

“It’s cute and it suits you. And I am way more attractive than your family. When an attractive woman gives you a cute nickname, you thank her.”

“Marci, that wasn’t very,” Matt started.

“She’s right. Out of all the Nelson men, I ended up with all the looks.” 

“Can we study now? Comedy routines and dating games aside, I plan on making partner at a reputable firm before I’m thirty. Can’t do that with you chuckle heads goofing off or making doe eyes at each other.”

“I like you, Marci. Glad you talked me into this.” Natasha said.

“Yeah well, love fest over. Let’s kick some legal ass.”

The group dove into their reading assignments, checking each others work and helping to find the correct case laws in the reference books. They closed down the library, departing when they were thrown out and walked to their respective dorms. Matt wondered where he would find yoga mats. He was pretty sure he may still have had one from an ex-girlfriend somewhere. Natasha couldn’t wait to have a sparring partner. She hated the cakewalk assignments. Her fighting always became rusty during and after. 

 

Saturday night came sooner than Matt would have preferred. He enjoyed their little study group, even though they had only met twice now. He had never had a group of friends for any length of time. Children at St. Agnes would come and go, and kids at school didn’t really know how to act around the blind guy. Matt had unwittingly followed Stick’s advice about not becoming attached to people. Regardless, his new friendship with Foggy meant more to Matt than he wanted to admit. Even Natalie’s treatment of him, like he was just another man, like he was normal, well, that would explain why he walked across campus Saturday night, two yoga mats in his duffle bag, headed towards who knows what with her.

He needn’t have worried. Their first “dance lesson” really was stretching and strengthening exercises. Natalie didn’t want any passersby to question what two people were doing in an unused classroom on a Saturday night. As Matt rolled up the second yoga mat, Natasha struck. Matt blocked her on instinct then stopped, realizing what he had done.

“I thought so. You know more than you let on.”

“The mark of a good lawyer. Thought you didn’t want to draw attention?”

“I’ll turn off the lights then.”

“Really? Isn’t that giving me an unfair advantage?”

“Hardly.” Natasha turn off the lights. She proceeded to test Matt’s blocking abilities and hold breaking abilities. She tried to needle him into revealing more information while they sparred. She couldn’t figure out who had taught him, and he wasn’t giving away any info.”

“Didn’t think an Irish boxer would know that.”

“He didn’t”

And then:

“That’s something they don’t teach in self-defense classes.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

And finally:

“Wow, a hold you can’t get out of.”

“Never could.”

“Really? How long have you been trying?”

“Natalie, not even my priest knows everything about me and he’s bound by the seal of confession.”

“Point made. Sorry, old habits.” Natasha released her hold and turned the lights back on. They finished cleaning up the room in companionable silence. 

When they were done, Matt asked her “Why’d you back off?”

“I could tell my line of questioning was getting me nowhere, counselor.” She quipped.

“And you said you weren’t funny. Has the past three weeks been a lie?”

“I never said I wasn’t funny. I said most people don’t understand my sense of humor. Must be the Russian in me.”

“Russian?”

“My mother. I thought Foggy googled me. She died when I was little.” She wasn't lying.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be, I don’t remember her so nothing to mourn.”

“That’s… could you get the lights? I’m all packed up.”

“Sure.” Natasha turned out the lights and they left the room, Matt closed the door behind them. Natasha thought it best to wait until they were walking back to their dorms to resume her informal interrogation.

“So Matt, how did you acquire two yoga mats?”

“How do you think?”

“Parting gifts from ex-girlfriends. You’re a real Casanova, aren’t you?”

“What can I say? Apparently I have a wounded duck thing going for me. Foggy’ s phrasing, not mine. Plus I’m a great listener and will never judge you based on appearance.”

“And you’re cute.”

“I wouldn’t know.” He shrugged, then smirked.

“You are a real shithead, Murdock.” Was that a note of affection in her voice?

“Well that was fun, let’s do it again some time.”

“Tuesday night. Give your muscles time to recuperate.”

“I feel fine.”

“You won’t tomorrow. Epsom salts…”

“And baking soda. Dad, boxer, remember? Same place Tuesday?"

"Unless you have a secret lair I don't know about."

"You're the one with the secrets."

“True. Well, this is me. See you around, Matt.”

“Not if I hear you first.”

They parted ways, each headed back to their dorms. Maybe he shouldn’t have judged Natalie so harshly. She really enjoyed her time at college. Maybe she needed some normalcy in whatever her real life was. She hadn’t given Matt any good reason to be suspicious of her. Or maybe he was just turned on by the sparring. He needed to have his head examined.


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Elektra pops up to confuse Matt and Matt introduces Natasha to the wonders of Fogwell's Gym. Because sparring is totally legit foreplay with those two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, so sorry this has taken me so long to post. It is the longest chapter of the fic and has been the most difficult to write as it's laying some character and relationship groundwork for the rest of the fic. Hopefully I will not be so long in between updates anymore. Maybe every other week instead of almost four months. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's left kudos or comments and has stuck with this story. You guys are awesome.
> 
> As always, this is unbeta'd so any and all mistakes are my own.

Chapter 7

Matt had two more sparring sessions with Natalie during the week. Each session left him a combination of sore and aroused. He really should get some counseling. Thursday night’s meeting almost didn’t happen. Foggy had begun interrogating Matt about Natalie and what they were doing in that room at night. He had bought the standard studying excuse, but Foggy’s questions made Matt realize he would have to take Natalie to Fogwell’s after hours tonight. No one except McMurphy, the original Fogwell’s son in law, knew Battlin’ Jack’s son worked out there. And there would be no questions asked, as long as Matt had cash. But first, Matt had to deal with the woman waiting for him outside of the library. 

“Hello stranger.”

“Elektra, um, hi. Missed you in Spanish yesterday.”

“Did you? Or are you making polite conversation?”

“Can it be both?”

“Do you have the recording of the lesson?”

“Not on me, it’s back in my room.”

“Could I borrow it?”

“Sure. You mean now?”

“If it’s not too much trouble. We can walk together.”

“Sure. Great. It’s this way, I think.” He smirked. She took his arm as they walked towards his dorm. Matt realized she had a security tail, one man, maybe thirties, muscular, strong, steady heartbeat.

“You joke a lot, I think, to put others at ease. You don’t have to do that with me.”

“I was raised in New York, sarcasm is the official language, or didn’t you know? Sorry, ingrained habit. Why weren’t you in class?”

“Idiot father and idiot driver. There was a party at the Embassy Thursday night; my father insisted on my presence. Then he insisted I stay the night as it went late, and then insisted I take an embassy car for safety reasons. He got stuck in traffic. I hate missing classes.”

“That’s why I walk or take a cab.”

“Unfortunately I do not have the luxury of such freedoms, even if I can defend myself.”

“That must be difficult, to know you’re capable, but other…”

“This is your dorm.”

“Oh, right, let me grab my keycard.” Elektra let go of his arm; he felt the loss acutely. He thought he had moved on from his infatuation with her. She had rebuffed him multiple times. Why was she now showing an interest in him? Before Matt could swipe his card, Foggy came out the door.

“Matt, there you are. Oh, hey, um,”

“Elektra Natchios. I’m in Matt’s Spanish class.”

“Did you need me for something, Foggy?”

“Oh, no? Just wondering where you got to, You’ve been out a lot this week. I can see why. Are you guys heading in? I’ll get the door.” Foggy opened the door for Matt and Elektra, calling after them before leaving, “you two kids have fun and play safe.”

Once inside, Elektra took Matt’s arm again as he led them up the stairs to his room. 

“Is Foggy always so…”

“Embarrassing? Yes.”

“Awkward.”

“Ah, somewhat. More so when beautiful women are around, so he says.”

“You think I am beautiful?”

“I’m not really the best judge.”

“For a week you, pursued me? And now you ignore me. What game are you playing, Matthew?”

“We’re here, casa de Foggy and Matt.” Matt opened the door allowing Elektra to enter first. “The messy side is Foggy’s.”

“I am waiting for an answer.”

Matt walked to his bedside table. “You said you weren’t interested. Multiple times. I can accept no for an answer.” Matt made a show of feeling through the items in the top drawer until he finally grasped the correct digital recorder.

“So, you like Natalie now?” Matt nearly dropped the recorder at Elektra’s question.

“Here it is. It has the whole week’s lessons on it.” He held the device for Elektra to take. She closed her hand over the device and Matt’s hand.

“I can always use a refresher.” Elektra let go of Matt’s hand and pocketed the recorder. “You are very good at avoiding my questions.”

“Not avoiding, I’m just not answering them.”

“Well, thank you for loaning this to me. I’ll return it tomorrow.” Elektra turned to leave, but hesitated. “Matt, I know you have been spending more time alone with Natalie.”

“Are you following me?”

“No, but anyone can see you are becoming close to her. My advice, don’t. She isn’t… She wears many masks. She is not someone to trust. If she shows an interest in you, it is for her own benefit and your detriment.”

“And how do you know all of this?”

“My father is an ambassador, his security is the best. Experienced. They have good memories for faces they have seen. And they have seen her face. I am passing along their warnings to me to you.”

“Why?”

“Because you respect me. You didn’t try to change my no into a yes. And I should be going. I can see myself out.” Elektra left a confused Matt standing in his room alone trying to parse through the cryptic warning she had given him. So Natalie really was a spy. Hadn’t she said as much? That she was building a new cover? He’d try to find out tonight what mission could bring her to Columbia, and come to think of it, why she was in every one of Matt’s classes.

 

The building looked like it hadn’t changed since its birth. Old red brick, faded paint on the windows, but the sign was newer, Fogwell’s Gym. Natasha had seen worse. She had arrived half an hour before Matt had said to meet; she needed to surveil the place, old habits. It looked legit, definitely wasn’t a front for anything other than the typical fight throwing local mafia goons. She had looked into Matt’s past, knew how his father had died, that the men responsible were never caught or charged. His mother had abandoned him to a catholic orphanage; and yet little hero Matt Murdock persevered, graduating in the top of his class, earning scholarships and shuffling off to Columbia where he made Dean’s list every semester so far. And Natasha knew there was so much more to that story and part of it happened here. She had earned Murdock’s trust; she wasn’t going to squander that rare gift.

When she had finished her surveillance, she doubled back to the subway exit a few blocks away and retraced her path. A few minutes early wouldn’t be suspicious, but she knew she shouldn’t be there waiting for him when he arrived. 

She needn’t have worried. Matt arrived ten minutes before the appointed time. Cash and keys exchanged hands, an old ritual that hadn’t been enacted for two weeks. The owner knew not to ask questions; Matt kept secrets, no wonder with what happened to his dad. He figured Matt had met another girl up at college; those Murdock men had that devilish charm that drove women into their beds. He gave him the usual speech about cleaning up and locking up. And somehow the gym was always cleaner the next morning when Matt came in after hours. Best to get lost and not ask questions.

Matt went inside and stowed his duffle bag on a bench. He turned on a few lights and left the front door unlocked. He had smelled Natalie’s perfume outside and knew she had been by to do whatever it was she did. He really tried hard to not think she cased the joint, but really what else should he call it? The door creaked open to announce Natalie’s arrival.

The inside of Fogwell’s looked exactly how Natasha pictured it from studying the outside. Aged, old fight flyers decorated the walls. The equipment was used, but not battered. The owner and members took care to keep the classics in good working order. It smelled of leather and sweat and blood, of victories and defeats. Natasha shook her head; only a few weeks as an American college student and she was waxing poetic about an old, smelly gym. 

“You really know where to take the ladies, don’t you?”

“I’ve never brought anyone here.”

“So I’m special?”

“People would start noticing us on campus. Wouldn’t want to blow your cover, Natalie.”

“Good call.” Had she really been that careless? She realized she had slipped, dropping the Natalie Rushman persona when she was alone with Matt. She couldn’t afford to do that; masks were her only protection. Unconsciously she changed her stance, adopting more of a “Natalie” position, memories of dance flickered and fizzled.

“Don’t do that.”  
“Do what, Matt?” Her tone had even gotten more flirtatious and blithe.

“What you’re doing, Natalie. Not. Here. This is sacred ground.” Matt bit out.

Well, wasn’t he full of surprises. Natasha settled back into herself, a little disquieted by Matt’s assessment of her.

“Nat. You can call me Nat when we’re alone.” Her tone became more business-like and more sensuous with an edge that said “I can kill you as easily as I can seduce you.”

“Matt and Nat.” He smirked. And there, there was the reminder that maybe Natasha did have a type. The idiotic, sarcastic, looking for a fight but regularly gets his ass handed to him type. “Stop ruminating and give me your hands, Nat.”

“Why?”

“Did you or did you not first suggest I teach you how to box? Lesson one: how to properly wrap your hands.”

“I remember. And next lesson, I’m bringing Beyonce. You’re learning some dance moves, Murdock.”

Natasha presented her hands to Matt who swiftly and delicately wrapped them. He barely touched her skin, but the intimacy of the act caused Natasha’s breath to flutter and her skin to flush. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice. With an efficiency born from years of practice, Matt finished his work too soon for Natasha’ liking. And that train of thought was too dangerous. She strolled around the gym while Matt wrapped his own hands.

“Did you know your father’s fight poster is still up?”

“Battlin’ Jack Murdock is still a legend around here. Lost more than he won, but he never got knocked out. He could take a punch.”

“Like father, like son?”

“Maybe too much. You stepping in?”

Matt held the ropes apart for her, but there was something different. He had taken off his glasses. He hadn’t done that before. Natasha found that the unseeing gaze didn’t bother her. She had seen worse; hell, she had inflicted worse. Besides his eyes were an attractive hazel. And she really needed to stop having those thoughts. 

“Do we go over etiquette first?” She asked as she entered the ring. “Queensbury rules, isn’t it?”

“The Marquis was an alcoholic, homophobic bully, so no.”

“I never took you for a Wilde fan.”

“I read the published transcripts of his trials. The last trial in particular reads like one of his plays, if he wrote tragedies. But we’re here to work out, stop trying to profile me.”

“Maybe I’m not profiling you. Maybe I’m genuinely interested in finding out more about my boxing instructor.”

“Did you like how I wrapped your hands?”

The question caught Natasha off guard which enabled Matt to sweep kick her off her feet and onto her ass.

“Oh so it’s Fight Club rules, is it?” Natasha flipped back onto her feet and assumed a fighting stance.

“Well we’re in the ring, gear’s on, so it’s go time.” Matt began a boxer’s warm up dance.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a little shit?”

“Only once they know me.”

They circled each other, throwing punches, blocking, kicking, and then Natasha threw something more difficult at Matt, which he backflipped away from. 

“Your form’s a little sloppy; you need to tighten your core or you’re going to get injured.”

“Not like I can see what I’m doing wrong.”

“You can probably feel it though.”

They went another ten minutes before Natasha threw some interesting combinations at him, setting up her trademark thigh take down. Matt’s successful dodge of that move had Natasha surprised and once again on her backside in the ring.

“That move’s never failed me before.” To her chagrin, Natasha found herself slightly turned on by his skill. She was a highly trained assassin and he was a twenty year old college student. This should not be happening, but it was.

“I don’t like getting kicked in the head. Besides you telegraph that’s what you’re about to do. Talk about sloppy.” Matt pulled Natasha to her feet.  
“Wasn’t trying to kick you in the head.”

“Really?”

“Was going to take you down with my thighs.”

“Oh. Well now you know why it didn’t work. I can’t see, remember?”

“So what, every person I’ve taken down… never mind. Of course they did.”

A few minutes later Matt did an impressive backflip kick that she barely managed to dodge.

“That’s impressive.”

“Not going to ask where I learned that?”

“I know not to now.” Matt smirked. “Besides, you’ll tell me soon enough.” She smirked back.

They went hard for another few minutes before Natasha locked him the hold he had never be able to get out of as a child. He tapped her arm.

“No tapping out. Break the hold, Matt.”

“Can’t. We’ve been through this one, Nat.”

“I’ll talk you through it. Although I am shorter than you, so it’ll be easier with me than someone closer to your size.”

For the next twenty minutes they worked on breaking the hold. Sweaty and exhausted, they finally stopped at ten o’clock. Besides, Matt didn’t know if he could effectively conceal the effects of having Natalie so close to him. Stick may have taught him that the mind controls the body, but this may be a case of the body overruling the mind.

“We should probably call it a night. You’re going to be sore in the morning.”

“What about you, Nat?”

“I used to be a ballerina; I know how to take care of myself.”

“My dad was a boxer, remember? Epsom salt and baking soda.”

“Are the showers clean in this place? We really shouldn’t go back to campus looking like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like we just spent nearly two hours beating the crap out of each other. That is not a normal collegiate activity.”

“They’re usually clean. Well, I can’t vouch for the women’s though.”

Matt and Natasha went into the separate locker rooms. She noticed, not for the first time tonight, that Matt didn’t use his cane in the gym. The layout must have been burned into his memory. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been joking about being unable to vouch for the ladies’ locker room. It was small and included a very suspect single shower stall. Clearly Fogwell’s did not get a lot of women training in there. Old boys club indeed. Natasha had hoped a long, private shower would help get herself back under control, but unless she read the signs wrong…

Under the spray of warm water, Matt tried to clear his head of all inappropriate thoughts of Natalie or Nat. The words of warning Elektra had given him that morning were a distant memory. He wanted to heed her warning, but a the small part of himself also questioned her motivation. Was it jealousy? Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t hear Nat enter the showers until she was inches from him.

“Nat, why are you?”

“The ladies locker room is highly suspect.”

“And?”

“Conserving water? It’s not like I have to worry about false modesty with you.”

“Because I can’t see.”

“Because you’re a gentleman who knows to wait until we get back to my dorm room.”

“Nat, should we be doing this?”

“No, but I really don’t care.” She initiated the kiss, hesitant at first, and then Matt kissed back with a passion his mild manner belied. The kiss ended only when one of them nearly slipped and fell.

“Dorm room. Right. Don’t want to explain how I got injured in the shower to McMurphy.” Matt turned off the water and they grabbed their towels to dry off.

“Or to the paramedics that get called to the scene, naked blind man attempting shower sex in an old, smelly gym.”

“Show some respect, a lot of great fighters trained here.”

“I know. I can still smell them.”

“I’m sorry it’s not the Waldorf-Astoria of gyms. And if you’re not nicer about it, I’m not going to your room.”

“Yes, you are.” Half-dressed, Natasha kissed him again, pulling on his bottom lip before breaking the kiss.

“Yes I am.”


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our heroes face the morning, Matt's not buying Natasha's bs, and a special guest star discovers that Columbia's stairwells are not good places to sleep. 
> 
> Special guest star: Clint Barton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry this has taken me so long to write. Nothing was working writing wise in February and then right at the beginning of March I got yet another rejection letter. Plus there was season 2 of Daredevil to watch.
> 
> Long over due, here's Chapter 8. Unbeta'd, any and all mistakes are my own.

Chapter 8

 

Matt woke up disoriented. The room smelled wrong, the bed faced the wrong direction, and there was definitely someone in bed with him. “Natalie,” his brain helpfully supplied, “well, shit” it added,  less helpfully. At least he hadn’t gone into a panic attack. He listened to the steady rhythm of her breathing to find out if she was awake.

“Hey.” Apparently she was.

“Hey.”

“Are you okay?”

“‘M fine, why?”

“Because it can be disorienting waking up in a strange room.”

“Does that happen to you a lot, Natalie?”

“Not so much any more. My teen years were a blur though. Hungry?” Natasha got up, letting the sheets fall back onto the bed. Matt heard the rustling of silk as Natasha put on a robe.

“I could eat. Wait, is the cafeteria still open?”

“Probably not. I have food here.”

“As long as it isn’t the sugary shit Foggy likes.”

“Here.” Natasha gave Matt his clothes from last night; they were expertly folded, his watch on top of the pile.

“Never figured you for a neat freak. Military training?” Natasha laughed in answer to Matt’s question. It sounded cold, calculated.

“Isn’t it a little early for cross-examination, counselor? And to answer your unspoken question, I have muesli, fruit, yogurt, and juice.”

“What, no coffee?” Matt shrugged his clothes on.

“Coffee maker would probably overload the circuitry in here. Don’t want an angry mob at my door.”

“Just when I thought you were perfect.”

“Nobody’s perfect.”  _ Seduce the mark, exterminate. Seduce the mark, exterminate.  _ “You already got me into your bed; you can quit flirting, Matt.” Her hands itched for a knife or garrotte; she laced her finger behind her back.

“Technically, it’s your bed. And you’re acting a little strange, Natalie.”

_ Focus on breathing, Tasha. In, out. In, out. You’re not their puppet anymore. You never will be again. _

“Sorry. I seem to have lost myself there for a minute. Here, eat.” Natasha handed him a bowl of cereal and moved her desk chair to sit in front of him.

“Leftover spy training? Don’t allow yourself to be compromised?”

“Matt, why are you so insistent on this spy thing? I played along because it was fun, but I think you’re not really joking anymore.”

“You played along.” Matt bit on those words. “Why encourage me then? Why tell me that you’re actively building a cover?”

“Reality is so much more boring.”

“And there’s your ‘Natalie’ voice. The one you use in class and in study group.” Matt put the bowl of cereal down. “You said that my fighting was not something taught in a self-defense class. Well, same to you.”

“How would you know?”

“How would you?” He thought back to the phone call from “Nick” he overheard a few weeks ago.

“This line of questioning is getting you nowhere, counselor.”

“I’m still an undergrad, and you’re probably a pro. I’m outmatched.” Matt decided it was best to drop the subject until her guard came down, if it ever could.

“You’re good. Go on the attack like a junkyard dog and then pull back with some non-threatening, self-deprecating humor. Definitely better suited for criminal law than ambulance chasing. If you could tame your tendency for smart-ass comments, you’d probably make district attorney someday.” Matt impressed Natasha in more ways than one. If he wasn’t blind, he would be a good asset. Was she recruiting for SHIELD now? Had she become too much like Phil and Clint wanting to bring in strays?

“I have no political aspirations at present. And you, Natalie? Since you claim you’re not really a spy now, what do you want to be when you grow up?” Matt teased.

“You’re still not ready to give that theory up are you? I have to wonder why. I mean, do you have first hand experience in dealing with shady government organizations?” A muscle ticked in Matt’s jaw, interesting.

“Let’s say after the successful mob hit on my dad, everyone in the neighborhood knew who exactly was responsible for it, but the FBI and police made no arrests and I was sent to Saint Agnes’ knowing my father’s killers would never face justice. So there’s that.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to open old wounds.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“But the FBI is a lot different than like, the CIA and spies.”

“And on that reappearance of ‘Natalie’ I should probably get back before Foggy sends out a search party. If he’s awake yet.” Matt left her room. Natasha wondered why after playing along these few weeks, Matt would suddenly go on the offensive with her. It didn’t make sense. Did someone… Elektra. Funny the things jealousy will inspire people to do. And there was yet another “normal” activity for her to do, matchmaking. 

 

_ “if you liked it then you shoulda put ring on it”   _ Natasha answered her phone.

“Hi Clint. You’re where? Way to be inconspicuous. Yes, he’s gone.” Natasha checked the hallway. “Now I know why your marriage with Bobbi is on the rocks. Oh, sorry. So officially divorced now. Clear.” Natasha ended the call as Clint Barton emerged from the maintenance stairwell leading to the roof.

“You’d think an Ivy League school would have more comfortable stairs.”

“Get in here before anyone sees you.”

Natasha ushered Clint into her room and locked the door. He sat on Natalie’s “roommate’s” unused bed.

“Nice digs.”

“I thought you were at the Southwest base, Clint.”

“Took some vacation time. Do you know how much I’ve got in the bank?”

“Probably more than you’ll ever use. Is this a social call or has Nick decided to read you in?”

“Social, since Nick hasn’t read me in. And sleeping with the students, Nat?”

“Hey, it’s my life.”

“He’s not anyone, you know, connected?”

“Nope. Orphan actually. Here on scholarship. He’s in my classes though. All of them.”

“There are no such things as coincidences.”

“You read those Sherlock Holmes books I gave you?”

“Actually, saw that movie with Robert Downey Jr. Same thing, right?”

“One day you will read a book, Clint Barton.”

“And that day is not today.” Clint flopped onto his stomach and propped his head up on his hands. “So Nat, tell me about that cute guy doing the walk of shame from your room.” Natasha mimicked Clint’s pose on her own bed.

“Well, Clint,” she smiled, “it’s none of your damn business.”

“I love our little heart to hearts. But seriously, Natasha…”

“You want to know if I’m falling back into my programming. I’m not. He’s smart, handsome, sarcastic, and I’m attracted to him. Can’t say why exactly, but this has nothing to do with who I was before.”

“Okay. Just making sure.”

“Why did you choose today of all days to drop in?”

“I have to go back tomorrow. Wanted to see for myself that you’re okay before I went. I’m going to be out there for a while.”

“We still have our burners.”

“Yeah, and you haven’t called me. Besides I’m your S.O. had to make sure you weren’t making me look bad.”

“Like you’d need the help. Give me ten minutes to shower and get dressed and then we’ll go for coffee.” Natasha grabbed some clothes out of her drawer and went into the small ensuite.

“As long as it’s not some chain or some weird niche shop.”

 

Twenty minutes later, Natasha and Clint were at a coffee house a few blocks away from campus. She had to order his coffee for him. He drank the office coffee black and straight out of the pot sometimes, a fair trade coffee shop with multi sourced global small farmers was a way out of Clint’s comfort zone.  The barista had noticed his Iowa State sweatshirt (“really, Clint?” “Hey I’m helping you solidify your cover. Friend from back home visiting before he gets shipped out”) and chalked up his confusion to be being another country bumpkin tourist. Natasha memorized her name tag, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by Clint.

“You’re not doing anything to that barista, Nat.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“You cataloged her. You’re totally looking into her and for what? For being a typical Manhattanite snob who probably has only been as far as Brooklyn.”

“Your point?” Natasha noticed Marci exit the coffee line and head right for their table.

“While I think it’s sweet you want to defend my honor…”

“Who’s defending what now?” Marci sat down across from Natasha, her coffee in hand, a textbook and legal pad under her arm, which she placed on the table.

“Natalie here defending my country bumpkin honor against the snobby Manhattan baristas.”

“Well, Iowa State, you look older than the typical undergrad. What’s your story and why would someone like Natalie know you?”

“Clint Frank, not a college student, and why would a scarily competent undergrad be friends with my ‘rebel princess’ friend , Natalie?”

“Clint…”

“Maybe you’re not as dumb as you look. Natalie, I sent an email to our study group, but since you’re here, I’ve decided we need more sessions before the mid-terms next week. Matt’s catholic, I’m sure he can adjust back to abstinence for a week or so.”

“So his name is Matt. She wouldn’t give that up.”

“For good reason.”

“Oh, I see it now. He’s the older brother type who got you out of adolescent scrapes because he had been there, done that himself.”

“Plus I’m special forces. Her dad hates I’m a working class schlub.”

“Whatever. So check your email, Natalie. I sent the schedule. Enjoy New York, Clint.” Marci left their table for a quieter spot in the back of the shop.

“Wow.”

“No Clint. Bad Clint. She’s too young for you.”

“Yeah, I noticed. She’s full on scary. She’d even intimidate Hill.”

“Not that she’d show it.”

“Do you like college?”

“Whether or not I like college is irrelevant, I’m on assignment. Wait, did I get this as part of some effort to ‘normalize’ me?”

“Hey I don’t pretend to know how Fury’s mind operates. But he trusts you to get the job done. Whatever the end game is. Besides people like us don’t do normal.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, that’s right. I was advised not to tell you too much about my personal life. The Black Widow might turn it against me. Whatever.”

“Very wise advice.”

“I was never good at following that kind of advice. So, anyway, I was raised by carnies.”

“Carnies?”

“Circus people. Crime circus people.”

“You are so full of it, Clint.”

“Let me spin you a tale, Natalie.”

 

And that was how Natasha finally learned about Clint’s tragic (and rather unbelievable) past, at a coffee shop in Morningside Heights in Manhattan. Clint did not learn anything more about her or this “Matt” guy, but he could have Phil check into him once he went back west.  


  
  
  
  
  
  



	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after. Foggy wants answers, and Natasha wants a partner who can dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this has been so long in updating. My father was in the hospital after lung surgery last summer, and it didn't end well, meaning he died. And I just couldn't get back into this fic for the longest time. There will be 3 more chapters to this fic. Hopefully I won't be so long in between uploading chapters. 
> 
> As always, unbeta'd. Please to be forgiving any grammatical errors.

Matt returned to his dorm worn out and hungry. He regretted not finishing that bowl of cereal. Foggy still snored in bed, dead to the world. Matt felt his watch, it was almost eleven. The cafeteria would be open soon for lunch. Now the big question, wake Foggy up or slip back out? With a snort, Foggy woke up.

“Corned beef.”

“What?”

“Oh I am never drinking again.” Foggy grabbed his head trying in vain to stop the pounding. “What day is it?” 

“Sunday.”

“Where were you last night?”

“Out, what’s with the corned beef?” Matt asked, amused.

“What corned beef?” Foggy answered.

“Must’ve been an interesting dream,” Matt chuckled.

“What time is it?”

“Almost eleven. Are you up for cafeteria food?” Matt hoped he wasn’t. 

“No way, buddy. I need hangover food.”

“Greasy diner food?”

“It’s like you read my mind. Let me go stumble to the shower and wash the last of the drunk off me. There’s this awesome diner down on 48th street.” Foggy stumbled out of bed and grabbed his shower kit.

“I know it.” It had been around forever. Matt’s dad used to take him there. 

“Awesome, and then you can tell me all about your night with Natalie over double cheeseburgers and pie.”

Foggy left the room. Matt wondered how Foggy could go from groggy hangover to wide awake and questioning him in less than five minutes. As much as he now enjoyed Foggy’s company, Matt was glad for a few minutes alone to think. What happened last night with Natalie could never happen again. Maybe it was a one time thing, a release of tension that had built over the course of their sparring sessions. Or maybe he liked that he didn’t have to lie about himself in the company of a pathological liar and spy. He should have asked her about Nick, but that would have revealed more about his abilities than he wanted her to know.

 

Turns out greasy diner food was just what the doctor ordered. Matt could have done without Foggy’s prying, but he couldn’t begrudge his friend some information. Matt had never had a friend that stuck around long enough to care about what went on his his life. Also a friend who knew where to get the best burgers and pie in Hell’s Kitchen. He had to make allowances for that.

“It’s weird coming down here in the middle of the semester.” Foggy said.

“You went home last weekend to do your laundry.” Matt reminded him.

“No, I went home last weekend to have my mom do my laundry as I invariably destroy my limited wardrobe whenever I wash it on campus. The campus laundry machines have it in for me, Matt.”

“They don’t give me any problems.”

“Our machine overlords like you because you have that handsome wounded duck thing going on. Look at me, I’m a mess.”

Over two months into their friendship and Foggy had stopped apologizing every time he used a “seeing” verb. He had started treating Matt like a regular guy and not someone to be coddled or ignored. It helped that the came from the same area and had that Hell’s Kitchen sensibility and sass. Foggy Nelson had the biggest heart (and mouth) of anyone Matt had known. And once again Matt found himself on the receiving end of Foggy’s bluntness.

“So Natalie and you are now a thing, officially?”

“I’m not actually sure. The one night stand is wreaking havoc with my Catholic guilt.” Matt joked as he tried to deflect the interrogation with humor.

“Ha ha, Murdock. Try answering the question you slippery eel.” Foggy pointed a fry at him.

“I did answer the question. I’m not sure if it was a one time thing or something else. And what’s going on with you and Marci?” Matt countered. He should never underestimate Franklin Nelson’s determination to get answers. 

“I don’t know, buddy. It’s like weird, long foreplay? She’s fierce. And gorgeous. And she’s not being as mean to me as the first week of our study group. I think because I asserted my dominance.”

Matt choked on his soda.

“And that’s what you get for being a smartass,” Foggy crowed.

They dropped the relationship talk and moved on to other subjects before being shooed out of the diner. They had been there for almost two hours, an unheard of phenomenon in New York. 

 

Later that week after yet another grueling, Marci-run study group, Matt found himself alone with Natalie. Foggy had surreptitiously offered to walk Marci back to her dorm so they could continue their debate on the Dartmouth College v. Woodward decision of 1819. They all pretended that’s why Marci and Foggy went off together, anyway. 

“So, homecoming’s in two weeks.” Natasha hinted.

“I’ve heard.” Matt tried really hard to not take her bait. After not having sparring sessions with Natalie, he found his desire for her wane. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

“Unless a miracle occurs and Elektra’s security detail and father lets her out of her ivory tower, I’m your best bet for hitting the dance floor.” Natasha didn’t care if she touched a sore spot; she wanted to see how Matt would react.

“There’s only one problem, even with all of our ‘dance lessons’ I still don’t know how to dance. You’re a lousy teacher in that regard.” Matt smiled.

“Was that a not so subtle hint for an extra Fogwell’s run?” Once again, Matt proved full of surprises and protected layers.

“I’ll even let you pick the music. You probably know better than I do what’s popular now.”

“Tomorrow night. Our usual time. Bring your dancing shoes, Twinkle Toes.” With that Natasha walked off towards her dorm leaving Matt silently cursing his inability to break things off with Natalie.

 

Matt and Natasha arrived outside of Fogwell’s at 11 the next night. Matt had warned her the gym’s sound system was non-existent so she brought a somewhat old school boombox with a CD player. Once inside, she began to stretch, going through the time honored ballet regimen. 

“You should probably stretch too.” Natasha said.

“Why, did you bring Tchaikovsky instead of Usher?”

“Beyonce, actually. And some clutch and sway stuff.”

Matt did as instructed and stretched. Natasha proved to be a more exacting instructor in dance than in fight training. 

By the end of two hours, Matt had memorized every word to “All the Single Ladies,” had mastered the “white man’s overbite,” and had perfected his clutch and sway technique, but with added bonus of being able to dip his partner without dropping her. All in all, it was a successful evening. Matt and Natasha would go to the Homecoming Dance together, and he didn’t go back to her dorm room that evening. 

They ended up at his as Foggy was at an all nighter. Some things couldn’t be helped.


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Homecoming Dance and a visit from Natalie's "dad." The beginning of the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with this story despite the long lapse in between chapters posting. 
> 
> Unbeta'd, any mistakes are my own.

The night of the Homecoming Dance snuck up on them. Foggy helped Matt dress for the dance. Well, he helped him with the bow tie at least.

“You really should have gotten a clip-on, buddy.” Foggy finished his work. “Done. Presenting Matt Murdock, the lady killer of Hell’s Kitchen.”

“Thanks Foggy. You know, I can do a Windsor knot in my sleep, but this,” Matt trailed off.

“Really? You wear ties?”

“St. Agnes’, remember?”

“Oh yeah, right. Catholic school uniforms. Man did it suck to be you.”

“Gonna miss you at the dance, buddy.”

“Well, you know, Marci and, uh, stuff.”

“A poetry slam? Still thinking you’re making a mistake.”

“But she’s so hot, Matt.”

It took Matt a moment to realize that Foggy wasn’t talking about Marci. “Wait, the girl in your Punjabi class?”

“She’s mc’ing the slam tonight.”

“So you’re taking Marci on a date to a poetry slam mc’d by the other woman you’re attracted to?”

“First, it’s not a date, and second, I’m not ‘taking’ Marci anywhere. Her words. We’re attending the same event together but not ‘together’ together. And I can’t help it if the ladies love me. Look at me, Matt, I’m delicious.”

“Foggy Nelson, Columbia’s next mac daddy.”

“Besides I have no clue what’s going on between me and Marci.” Foggy paused to think and then added, “I may be a little terrified that she’s secretly a praying mantis and will eat me after we’ve mated.”

Matt laughed. “Well, you did say you were delicious.”

Foggy took one last, appraising look at Matt and then declared, “my work here is done. Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Matt and Natasha arrived at the dance few minutes after it had started. Natasha had left her long hair down; she had grown used to pulling it back during classes and their sparring sessions. Judging by the elevated heart rates Matt heard as they entered in the ballroom, Natalie looked stunning.

“I get the feeling you’re turning some heads, Natalie.” Matt murmured.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Matt. Let’s go claim a table.”

They fund an empty table in a corner of the ballroom.

“Could you describe the decorations to me?” Matt asked.

“Sure, there’s a general theme of the school colors, light blue and white. Alternating tablecloths. Centerpieces of blue, silk hydrangeas. Streamers of blue and white along with the typical balloon columns and arches of the same color pattern. The drinks station is twenty feet from our table. Do you want anything?”

“Just water, thanks.” Matt thought to himself how clinically Natalie described the decorations. Maybe he should ask her when she came back with their drinks, if she clocked all of the exit routes. Using his senses he also tried to find Elektra in the ballroom. But either she wasn’t there or he couldn’t single her out through all the other people there.

Natasha returned with their drinks. “If you’re looking for Elektra, she’s not here. Too big of a security risk for her.”

“How did you…”

“You had your eyes closed and your head was tilted slightly, like a dog’s.” She needed to stop profiling him if she was ever going to get him to give up his ‘Natalie’s a spy’ theory. To be fair, it was all on her for encouraging that when they first met.

“How is it you know all of my secrets and I know none of yours?” Matt asked.

“I thought women were supposed to be mysterious. Adds to our charms.”

Matt gave a half-hearted chuckle. “You have an answer for everything, Nat.” The DJ began playing “All the Single Ladies.”

“They’re playing our song, shall we?” Natasha offered.

“I think I’ll stick to the ‘clutch and sway’ songs. No one would believe I’m blind if I broke out my Beyonce moves.”

“It will remain our secret song to cherish forever then.”

When the DJ finally played a slow song, Matt and Natasha joined the other couples on the dance floor. It would be the perfect opportunity for a casual interrogation. 

“So, Natalie, what classes did you sign up for in Spring Semester?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Maybe I want to know ahead of time if you’re going to be in all of mine again.”

“Why ruin the surprise?”

Matt thought that Natalie was too good at deflection.

Natasha continued, “may I ask you a question, counselor?”

“I can’t promise I’ll be as forthcoming as you.”

“Why Elektra?”

“Do you have intel on her that says she’s a bad seed?”

“No, I’m just curious.”

“I like the sound of her voice. And there’s something about her I can’t describe. I feel drawn to her.”

The slow song ended, replaced with another fast dance song. Matt and Natasha returned to their table. A few of their classmates stopped by to chat every so often, but for the most part, they were left alone. Matt heard the question “hey, where’s Foggy?” a couple of times; he’d have to let Foggy know he’d been missed. He wouldn’t believe it. 

“You ready to call it a night?” Natasha asked. They had been there for two hours.

“Why? You have an early morning meeting?”

“Does sunrise Yoga count? Actually, I might end up sleeping in. Who knew college encourages bad behavior?”

“Whatever you say, Nat. And yeah, I’m ready to go.”

They took a cab back to campus, Natasha paid. A few feet from her dorm, they both stopped dead as a middle-aged man called out to them.

“Natalie, there you are, princess!” 

Natasha had no idea why Agent Coulson, her C.O., would drop in unannounced, but she rolled with it. 

“Dad? What are you doing here?” She felt Matt tense as she left his side to meet Phil halfway.

“I’m in town for business so I thought I’d check in on you. Can’t a father visit his daughter? Who’s your friend?”

Natasha led Phil over to Matt. “Dad, this is Matt Murdock, he’s one of the top students in his year.”

“Pleased to meet you, Matt.” Phil offered his hand to shake.

Matt gripped his cane with both hands. “Likewise, although I can’t shake this feeling that we’ve met somewhere before. I never forget a voice. Do you travel to New York a lot?”

“Only when I’m forced to. Shareholder meetings. Wining and dining. I’d rather be in my office crunching numbers or out in the fields checking the crops.” Phil answered.

“I think I’ll head back to my dorm. You probably don’t need an interloper.” Matt left.

“What was that about?” Natasha wondered.

“What was what about?” Phil asked.

“Never mind.” Natasha sensed the two men had met at some point judging by Matt’s reaction and Phil’s avoidance of her question. “So why are you here, dad?”

“Can you show me your dorm room? I want to see if you’ve managed to keep it cleaner than your bedroom at home.”

“Sure. This way.” Natasha led Phil to her dorm room. Once they were inside, Natasha dropped the daughter act. “Why are you really here, Phil?”

“Check-in time. Plus extraction plan.” Phil handed her an envelope out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

“You know Matt.”

“We’ve met.” Phil knew better than to outright lie to the Black Widow. “He’ll probably tell you about our meeting himself. I may have unintentionally blown your cover.”

“You didn’t; he already believes I’m a spy. He thinks it has something to do with Elektra Natchios’ father though.” Natasha looked through the contents of the envelope. A revised time table plus an outline of Natalie’s story for not returning next semester. “So Phil, do we actually have to act out this father/daughter spat resulting in Natalie being cut-off?”

“No. But things can be implied. If business is over,” Phil sat down on the edge of the bed, “how are you adjusting to college, Natasha?”

“I can adapt to anything, Phil.”

“Adaptation is not the same as enjoyment.”

“So SHIELD is trying to ‘normalize’ me.”

“After Budapest, I thought some time away from the field would be best. Plus you’re going to need your strength for dealing with Stark.” Phil was only half-joking.

“I’d ask for tips, but he went off script within ten minutes of you putting your foot down.”

“Remain an alluring mystery, he does respect strong women, and watch some ‘Supernanny,’ that might help. And rely on Pepper Potts.” Phil really wanted to ask her about Murdock, but that information had to be given not extracted.

“So back to work. I think I’ll mention Yashida on Monday. An email out of the blue. And then another message from my dad about my choice in ‘friends.’ Start with drops until it becomes a deluge.” Natasha could tell Phil held back a litany of questions for her. She didn’t feel like answering them, best they remain unasked.

She walked Phil off campus. Before they parted ways she advised him, “make sure Barton doesn’t get into too much trouble out in New Mexico.”

“As long as you promise to keep Stark out of trouble too.” He’d have to talk to Barton about secret assignments remaining secret.

With Cheshire Cat grins, they realized they had just asked the impossible of each other.


End file.
